October 24 was a restless night.
Tossing and turning, I begged my mind to stop, “tomorrow is an important day.” The anticipation only years in the making.
Surrounded by friends and upperclassmen, we crowded around the dingy white wall holding up our futures. I was a 14-year-old freshman at Bryant High School when I tried out for the yearbook staff. You read me right, tried out. And as I look at the definition of “try out” and remember the words I heard today, the edges of my mouth spread from ear to ear, revealing my 100-watt smile.
For years, Margaret Sorrows, the award-winning journalism adviser, tested all who dared to enter her classroom in Building 2.
With walls covered in memories, begging me to join, I submitted my application. Days felt like months until I crowded around the dingy wall, took a deep breath and looked for my name.
As my eyes connected with those 13 letters, I believed my writing stood a chance.
Flash forward 12 years to Oct. 25, 2017.
Surrounded by co-workers, we crowded around the long black conference table as I introduced the woman who owned the awards along those walls in Building 2. The woman who tested my potential and saw something I could not yet see.
I clung to every word the same woman proclaimed, reminding us how sometimes getting back to the basics makes all the difference in writing. And ourselves.
Today, I sit in my 13th-floor office roughly 9 blocks from the Capitol, a PR specialist overwhelmed with gratitude. Grateful for the lessons I carried with me when I exited Bldg. 2 those 8 years ago. Grateful for the lessons since entering 400 W Capitol Ave.
Sometimes it takes the basics to unleash the potential inside us all.